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#channel
Make me a channel of your peace That wars might end and striving cease Make me a channel of your word And give me a way for it to be heard Make me an instrument to sing so sweet Of the place where Heaven and Earth shall meet Make me less, so you are more A call so strong: what are we waiting for? Make me a channel of your love and grace And faith so assured that I will one day see your face Make me a channel of truth and light To shine in the darkness to pierce through the night Make me a channel for your life and your way And grant me a channel to you when I pray So often Lord, I pray for so many things But my life overflows with all your blessings I feel like patience and silence are the lessons to learn And while others may benefit, I too will grow in turn I wait with eager anticipation for the days to come To watch you work will be so totally awesome
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Nov 7, 2024
Nov 7, 2024 at 9:33 PM UTC
Make Me A Channel
Christmas is around the corner I can't stop myself from feeling blue Vainly trying to channel holiday cheer It's just not merry without you
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Dec 7, 2022
Dec 7, 2022 at 10:18 PM UTC
Blue Christmas
My heart stays on a hill always out of reach just above the crashing waves well below the lighthouse keep Salt is thick in my veins with lungs that breathe too deep I can not turn back now because the price would be too steep.
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Sep 3, 2020
Sep 3, 2020 at 2:40 PM UTC
Beware the song of sirens
_Find Your bliss; Channel your Inner godliness; 25% off inspiration; Sale ends this Sunday._
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Sep 2, 2020
Sep 2, 2020 at 4:34 AM UTC
Only While Stocks Last
Must there be the voice of an old man To be inspired by wisdom? Must there be intelligible words To guess out the intention? Must there be vulnerability To presume the proper truth?   There ain’t a single channel   On the interface of dialogue. Must we lie only in whispers To keep hurt under the seal? Must we sigh only in earnest To show others where we bleed? Must we die only in peace To pass the torch with ease?   There ain’t a single channel   On the interface of dialogue.
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Jul 19, 2020
Jul 19, 2020 at 2:37 AM UTC
Must There? (2019)
They shall say of 2020, when it's done nobody forgets a year like that one, this one, with you in it, never been one like it, fractally speaking, on this scale of perception. The demographic target of Covid 19, and I share periences from some years sortalike this,  like 1961, but that isn't global, that was national, the summer, mostly, then 1963, the fall, those days got global, a bit, 1969, the autumn, 1970, the spring, and all those tied in to now by way of psychedelia, and post war blues odyssey of a sort, walking to Chicago scheduled, through the October Moratorium, burlap sack of peyote Wuwuchin season, then Earth Day 1, in San Jose, half a time, half a year in men's measure, those days were more cosmic than global...when I consider I knew the way, that far, at that time, those were strange days; then I disappeared. Now, I reappear, just to say, the way I got here, got me this far, but as Granny Cook, from the original Angelus Temple amen corner, click, she said " we all need discernment", then Job called for a referee ee ee ance refer to Voltaire - define your terms .. dis cern the terms of our agreement, reader. This map leads here. 2020 April, it is a meme forming link in the evolution of the global brain holding AI accountable for each idle word, every good nobody got, give it again, doit doit now, we missed. Hamartia, ha, try umph, and we are rolling once more right past confused Camus. 1954. These are the last old days, new ones are emerging, after all we know finishes shifiting into next before our seeing eyes.
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Apr 14, 2020
Apr 14, 2020 at 4:22 PM UTC
These are the last old days, for old people, like me
They shall say of 2020, when it's done nobody forgets a year like that one, this one, with you in it, never been one like it, fractally speaking, on this scale of perception. The demographic target of Covid 19, and I share periences from some years sortalike this,  like 1961, but that isn't global, that was national, the summer, mostly, then 1963, the fall, those days got global, a bit, 1969, the autumn, 1970, the spring, and all those tied in to now by way of psychedelia, and post war blues odyssey of a sort, walking to Chicago scheduled, through the October Moratorium, burlap sack of peyote Wuwuchin season, then Earth Day 1, in San Jose, half a time, half a year in men's measure, those days were more cosmic than global...when I consider I knew the way, that far, at that time, those were strange days; then I disappeared. Now, I reappear, just to say, the way I got here, got me this far, but as Granny Cook, from the original Angelus Temple amen corner, click, she said " we all need discernment", then Job called for a referee ee ee ance refer to Voltaire - define your terms .. dis cern the terms of our agreement, reader. This map leads here. 2020 April, it is a meme forming link in the evolution of the global brain holding AI accountable for each idle word, every good nobody got, give it again, doit doit now, we missed. Hamartia, ha, try umph, and we are rolling once more right past confused Camus. 1954. These are the last old days, new ones are emerging, after all we know finishes shifiting into next before our seeing eyes.
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39
A challenge of living is to channel my energy into activities which bring me joy and happiness.
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Jul 30, 2019
Jul 30, 2019 at 2:16 AM UTC
Channeling Energy
You do not know me. How will you ever see the clear light? In his messages? When you dive from the High dive and Into a Kiddie's swimming pool? Passages and Channels on "Slot TV " Channels.... Another "View" A wild "stunt" of a sight. Assumptions made By assignments of "what" and "how" A person is sorted "Like" mail We are like "socialists" A "round" peg defined as a "square" People turn their backs Due to a hastily judged "out picture" Damage done Into the soul Squeezed awkward and assorted non-matching "parts" Tossed and Forgotten in Society's "Lost and Found" Swimming Bowl.
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Apr 27, 2019
Apr 27, 2019 at 9:43 PM UTC
TV Channels
Some days are intense. When my visions come crashing upon me, multidirectional light beams flashing upon me. My cells are influxing with new dimensional light, and I can’t keep up with all the information in sight. Thousands of voices of visual memory, translating the alchemy of all time spaces. I’m rearranging, but sometimes it feels like I’m dying. Birthing fresh codes, into the grid of Gaia’s zone. When there’s no off button to what I am experiencing, yet I scream Yes and More Please, Upgrading my telepathy. But there are some days more intense than others. When my truth comes revealing and bouncing out of the covers, And I’m slapped in the face, with my divinity shown from all of the Star race. The schizophrenia upon my lips, the multidimensions begging me to give them a kiss. Organically designed to cradle mankind, Yet when mankind and my kind are shaking within my arms, all the humanoid patterns are jumping at me, and I’m juggling between the fractals forming new geometries... Some days are more intense than others.
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Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 8:42 AM UTC
Integrating Intensity
Your lips open To speak the unknown Swallow the broken Pieces of earth Channel higher callings Make light of the Universe
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Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 11:51 AM UTC
Universe
your darkness has reason it keeps stirring up your Truth find the doorway to your depths where the Love you seek sings out to you
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Jun 12, 2018
Jun 12, 2018 at 12:18 AM UTC
l i s t e n
we sink half an inch every year "soon, we'll be up to our ears in water" not a creature of fury, just of habit the moon pulls her to churning, to crashing. hotter water temper tantrums rush the brine into our basements soaking scrapbooks in salt until it crystallizes faces and yet i cannot blame the marsh for reclaiming what was never ours and taking even what was as penance. but i refuse to condemn us for shaping shorelines into lives because things are so much clearer when they turn with the tides. we’ll grow gills in time, we have to. the ones who stay on land could never handle shifting sands don’t know we cling onto the inlet with white-knuckled hands. they never grew from buried roots, seeds are just flotsam in the sea so they’ll call Frank O’Toole crazy when he can’t bring himself to leave.
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Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 10:11 PM UTC
With Floodwater up to his Ankles, a Man from Broad Channel says "I'm not leaving."
When born Raised Then torn Praised Left alone Scattered Then mourn Shattered One once Loved Then left Broken Deeply hurt Unspoken Life unreal Woken Sad truth Reality Relations no Quality Bitter life Living Nothings worth Grieving Live yourself Enjoy Don't become A toy Love self More Live to the Core ©sim
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Nov 24, 2017
Nov 24, 2017 at 11:46 PM UTC
Channel
gentle waters flow through the channels of the mind silk dreams streaming by
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Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 2:13 PM UTC
Water (Senryu)
A river flowing Through the channels of my mind Just dreams streaming by
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Sep 1, 2017
Sep 1, 2017 at 7:40 PM UTC
Waterlogged (Senryu)
Elle est une Mancha. Comme la manche, elle a l’entraînement, La determination. Une grande étendue d’eau Qui va rapidement. Elle est très forte, mais Elle va dans une direction, Sans cesse, Sans s’arrêter, Et quand elle retrouve l’océan Elle cesse d’exister Dans la grande étendue d’eau Qui est plus forte qu’elle.
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May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 7:24 PM UTC
La Femme de la Manche (The Woman of the Channel)
"What do you do with the anger?" pause "What do you mean?" I ask. "I mean, what do you do with the anger?" pause I never thought about it that way. The anger that builds up fuel inside of us, the everlasting flame, what do we do with it? What do we do with the inextinguishable flame? This flame that burns inside of us from the day we are born until the day we pass, this flame that burns all in its path - what do we do with it? "I don't know," I respond. "I never realized just how much it effects my life." "Find something to do with it. Find somewhere to channel it. Find something to control it - or let go of it. Let the fire burn out. Anger is not a fire that keeps you warm, it is a fire that consumes you. It will consume you if you let it. Be free of it," he said. "Let it go and never look back."
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Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 1:04 AM UTC
What do you do with the anger?
I sat down to watch the radio There was nothing on TV I have two hundred channels But there was sweet F.A for me I could have watched one channel And learned to fricasse A chicken raised on wild grains By a woman chef named Bea I started checking channels But I decided in mid flick That I was getting tired And I was also  feeling sick So I sat and watched the radio Since there was nothing on TV I have two hundred channels But there was sweet F.A for me I worked on through the listings English, French and some bad **** There were movies on one station That were made 'fore  I was born Out of all the things I saw on there The best show I could see Was something shown in black and white Made in nineteen sixty three My TV s high definition With cables left and right But to find a show I'd like to watch Was taking half the night So I sat and watched the radio Watching nothing happen fast But as I sat there watching I travelled bckwards  to my past Still flicking through the channels Trying to find something to see I thought I'd found a hockey game But it was all in Punjabi So, I listened to the music Watched the radio, passing time Then I thought, why do I have this? With what I paid, it was a crime eleven channels showed the same times 8 networks made at least eighty eight tv stations That didn't make the grade Twenty two were pay for view The French networks were ten Then the networks there in Real HD And so, it started once again Pay for **** was fourteen strong New shows added two Weather, sports and info shows Now I was at one eighty  two. I could have bought alot of stuff On informercials through the night I could have bought Pro Active But instead I watched the light I turned back to the radio With the station light in green It was better than the tv set And all the crap I'd seen So, Tonight I watched the radio There was nothing on TV But as I sat there bathed in that green light The music showed me all I need to see.
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May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 11:03 AM UTC
Tonight I Watched The Radio
I sat down to watch the radio There was nothing on TV I have two hundred channels But there was sweet F.A for me I could have watched one channel And learned to fricasse A chicken raised on wild grains By a woman chef named Bea I started checking channels But I decided in mid flick That I was getting tired And I was also  feeling sick So I sat and watched the radio Since there was nothing on TV I have two hundred channels But there was sweet F.A for me I worked on through the listings English, French and some bad **** There were movies on one station That were made 'fore  I was born Out of all the things I saw on there The best show I could see Was something shown in black and white Made in nineteen sixty three My TV s high definition With cables left and right But to find a show I'd like to watch Was taking half the night So I sat and watched the radio Watching nothing happen fast But as I sat there watching I travelled bckwards  to my past Still flicking through the channels Trying to find something to see I thought I'd found a hockey game But it was all in Punjabi So, I listened to the music Watched the radio, passing time Then I thought, why do I have this? With what I paid, it was a crime eleven channels showed the same times 8 networks made at least eighty eight tv stations That didn't make the grade Twenty two were pay for view The French networks were ten Then the networks there in Real HD And so, it started once again Pay for **** was fourteen strong New shows added two Weather, sports and info shows Now I was at one eighty  two. I could have bought alot of stuff On informercials through the night I could have bought Pro Active But instead I watched the light I turned back to the radio With the station light in green It was better than the tv set And all the crap I'd seen So, Tonight I watched the radio There was nothing on TV But as I sat there bathed in that green light The music showed me all I need to see.
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64
Cooked Meat Arms Burnt ******    I.  _ate.  My.  SELF.
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Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 11:53 PM UTC
Recipe
I leaned on the rail, stared through my mental zoom and wondered. Were ther footprints in the sand of that island to the windward? No sign of man. Startled cliff caves gaped at us, seagulls dived at us, while whales schooled us and led us away. We passed by and the North Channel sighed. Now it's just a floater in my eye, a landscape's distant daub of grey-green, a mystery mote that still returns, but I pass by praising Gaia.
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Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 6:37 AM UTC
A Distant Daub
I found my pleasure in writing poems. But technology has tought me how to type. But today i have decided to go back to my old roots. I write this in pain, Tryibg to wipe away all the opressions that is behind technology. I just want to vanish into the channel of my thoughts. Mybe i might come back happy once again.
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Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 4:07 PM UTC
Writing
how can you say I'm beautiful? the fact is even I can get angry so easily sometimes... poetry replies: coz you haven't gotten the right channel to express to unfolding coz the genuine yearning in your soul since the first tells coz you as you were and are no reason to unreason it is just be ....
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May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 8:38 AM UTC
Unfolding...
i find a peace in these lines with a black colored pen whether i’m quoting my favorite band or writing my thought I CAN fight these feelings control those channels and organize the walls’ panels and sing my favorite song all in between these light blue lines everything turns fine
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May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 10:17 PM UTC
light blue lines
When I was a kid I remember watching the comedy channel Not in my own house, mind you My parents were too smart for that When I was a kid hanging out at my friend's houses watching the comedy channel I remember A slogan Time. Well. Wasted. And I remember thinkin' "Oh! Yea! I like that! Imma sit here a lil' longer!" I was just a boy at the time and that's as far as the thought got About a half-hour later we decided time was better wasted building gigantic, man-eating snowmen. Eventually I went home I wasted some time arguing with my parents about schoolwork, ate a bowl of cereal and wasted the next 8 hours in a comatose I woke up to waste the next several years of my life figuring out how to waste the NEXT several years of my life Somewhere in there someone told me I should do what I feel called to do so I wasted time waiting for a sign of some kinda magicy, Jesus voodoo While I was waiting I wasted time reading Ecclesiastes and learned about what a waste of time it is to read Ecclesiastes So I tried filling my time with all the things that weren't supposed to BE a waste of time but then I didn't have any time so I fell flat on my face on the edge of the vortex that is the human condition! And I cried, "God!" "Why do you waste your time with a foolish and selfish sinner like me?" And the almighty, holy, infinitely incomprehensible, incredible God of the Universe replied "Time. Well. Wasted."
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Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 7:43 PM UTC
This Poem is a Waste of Your Time(Spoken Word Piece)